To leave it all behind... for now

I have now spent the last week with my family outside of Cancun in a fishing village called Puerto Morelos. "Fishing Village" is somewhat of a misnomer, as I am overlooking a beautiful pool and 50 yards beyond the pool is a pristine ocean with three shades of green water and white sands. Rather luxurious for a fishing village. But a fishing village I read it was so a fishing village it shall be labeled. A bit different than my jungle accommodations, in Puerto Morelos we stayed in a beautiful condo and Chistoph - my personal doctor from Ak'Tenamit - even met us here for the past couple days.

Highlights? I could say Tulum - the beachside ruins. The weather hasn't really gone above 82 degrees and there is a constant breeze off the ocean. Parasailing too, would be an understandable answer as yesterday Christoph and I soared well over 100 feet up in the air in Playa del Carmen for 20 minutes. With its aqua-colored water, I can understand why so many flock there, but part of the reason I have loved Morelos is that it hasn't been taken over by foreign tourism. Many of the tourists are Mexican. While some of the waiters and shop owners speak a some English, it isn't something thrown in your face or even something that physically pursues you as it does in Playa. I digress. Even with great seafood and now penny-pinching as I may have done throughout a year in Guatemala, by far and a way, the highlight of this trip has been seeing my sister and my parents after another five months. I am truly privileged to have such a supportive, empathic, uplifting and comical family. So in part, I must give thanks that my mom is turning ** years old :) and my family decided that this trip made sense.

Anyway, I hope folks have gotten something out of these past few months of blogging. I know I have gotten an immeasurable amount including even more documented memories and the wonderful support friends, family and relative strangers have left as posts along the way. Not knowing exactly how my next three months will be at home, I won't say how they will be on the blog. But check back come the end of November to see what we can do at the new Ak'Tenamit school.

Love to you all. To a better world.

Jesse

Travel Extremes

On the final leg of this year's travels, I have seen every extreme of the travel spectrum. From two beautiful boat rides leaving Guatemala for Belize, to a 'puddle jumper' north traveling up Belize overlooking the clear waters of the baby neighbor of Guatemala, the sweet has been just that. But I have also tasted my fair share of the sour. Finishing off the Belizean journey by bus, I was the only passenger forced to stay on foot although I paid full share. That same bus delayed two hours at both the Belizean and Mexican borders, enough so to deny me the opportunity to catch my connection bus to Cancun. From a border town I blog, waiting 10 hours or so until I can take an overnight bus up to meet my parents and sister on Saturday in Cancun. That's just life down here. I'd say the highlight was standing in line at one immigration office, waiting a solid 45 minutes while one customs agent processed our passports. When it seemed the lunch break of his co-workers ended, three other agents returned to their posts and we silently rejoiced thinking the process would be greatly expedited. And it would have been had the woman at the desk not have stared at us, put up a hand to say 'where to you think you're going?' and proceeded to do her make-up and read her magazine. I get that your break might not have ended... but is it necessary to taunt us? Really? I think not.

A week from tomorrow - hopefully after a long resting vacation with the family - I will be back in the States. Regarding posts of late, I have since accepted the job with Ak'Tenamit to oversee the opening of the new education center in Cancuen, Guatemala. The challenge will be great, long (two years,) but made easier by the three month break they have given me. So homeward bound. Three months in the States, most certainly traveling madly from city-to-city trying to see all the family I can. Preliminary itinerary is as follows: stops in Boston, New York, Chicago, Burlington, possibly DC and Atlanta. If you are in one of these cities, please let me know because after this trip home, it'll probably be another two years before opportunity rises again for us to see each other - unless of course you decide you're ready for a break and pop down to Guatemala.

I hope each of you is safe, healthy and well.]

To a better world,
Jesse

Dengue Fever!! That is all...

Las Conchas

For some time, the hype had been built around this place: Las Conchas. "Smaller and less touristy than Semuc Champay" - a tourist hotspot in Guatemala. "Clearer water and more seculded." Upon my arrival with my Austrian doctor friend, Christoph, the reality came to a front. Don't get me wrong. The site itself is quite beautiful, but we were told the season was wrong and coming back in summer would be more adventageous to seeing the aforementioned clear waters or swimming period. Trying to interpret this comment in the middle of July - also known as summer - would be our next task.
I am, however, ahead of myself. A couple days ago we left the project and after a couple of stop offs to change microbuses, we arrived in Chahal where we passed an eventless night in a non-descript room with one of the hardest beds known to humankind. I almost felt I could envision the person who designed the bed, sadistic in his own right, laughing at the poor sucker - me - getting approximately 37 total minutes of sleep.
When we awoke and went exploring for the first micro that would lead to the second micro and in turn, Las Conchas, we met Uswaldo, an apparent good-hearted Zacapatan who offered to take us directly to our destination in his pick-up. We accept his offer and are off, only to return to ton after 10 minuts or so in route because he forgot to get gas. The 45 minute trip was extended by a stop-off at his finca where he gave us a tour, picked us mangos and maintained conversation - all while other passangers waited patiently in the back of the true. He offered us a place to stay, free of change; took us to the hotel where we planned on staying - only to find no one there - and back to Las Conchas for a total of 10 Q. My estimate for gringos in a pick-up as such to be between 200 and 300 Q.
No one, like at the hotel, was there to greet us at Las Conchas. We let ourselves in - bypassing the 35 Q entrance fee - took our pictures and decided to hit the road. With not the greatest of options, we chose to head back towards Rio Dulce to stay at Casa Perico - a hotel located on the river with great food (BBQ buffet!) The trip - waiting time included - should have been 3 1/2 hours. That is, of course, until the truck that had been pulling chivos came passing by and offered us a ride. Initially we tought it would take us to the town to find the micro, but the driver informed us that he would be passing Rio and we were welcome to join him. Cristoph - expert climber - hopped right up effortlessly. After my first several unsuccessful attempts to mount our savior of transportation, and later with the help of Christoph's strength pulling from up in the cab, I dragged myself, ass first on to our chariot. It as upon standing that I realized the substance and stench that was now on my backpack, body and clothes. At first, denial set in and I told myself it was mud, but with everyone having a good laugh, I finally let the reality that I was covered in chivo shit set in.
Fortunately I am freshly showered and waiting to head back to the project for my last few weeks there. Looking forward to coming home and the big decision that lies ahead. Pictures will follow this post
Write with any life updates - jesse.schaubenfuerst@gmail.com

To a better world,

Jesse

The Future

With a ticket back to the US in just over a month, I have begun to think quite a bit more about the future. You know, those two words that dictate where we'll live; how we'll pay the bills; the whole nine yards. After living abroad for just about a year now, I feel the transition back to my country of origin to be a tough one, but not an impossible one. That said, a recent opportunity has arisen in Guatemala. It will be a decision I have to make before leaving in a month, I believe. A great job offer; experiences to learn and grow, advance any sort of career I want to have in the future, and help bring education to a part of Guatemala where it is lacked. At 23 years old, I know that two years is not a huge commitment. But the idea to envision myself not at 23 today, but at 25, having spent the last three years of my life in Guatemala is a startling one. I still no not what I will do. In fact, I don't even know when I have to inform my organization of my decision. But the last few weeks have been spent feeling like the ball in a game of pong - shot back from one decision to another.

Being considered for a position as such has helped to realize maybe, some sense of self-worth in the professional sense. The reality of the situation is that this will be my first true employment. To start out overseeing an entire project site - the creation of a new school in an area where education is unseen - is often unimaginable. The responsibility is great; the potential incredible; the learning will be exponential. The economy and job market the way it is in the States also isn't the most pleasant "Welcome Home" sign either. Coupled with all those is the reality of going to a more remote jungle; to be the contact person for the surrounding communities - the share my organization's vision of indigenous education; at times feeling like - and possibly being - the only person out at this new site; working part time in Guatemala City which is neither the prettiest or safest cities in the world.

Anyway, there are many factors that need weighing. Input always welcome.

To a better world,

Jesse

Crash

Yesterday I had one of my first true clashes of culture since I left home nearly a year ago. During my weekly staff meeting, a problem regarding a student arose and it was decided unspokenly that our time – normally reserved to give updates on class progress and announcements – would be dedicated essentially to this one topic. A dilemma it was, as this particular student’s mother had arrived to complain about how her daughter was being treated at the institution. Having this young woman as a student, and having had mainly positive experiences, I listened patiently to what my co-workers had to say and began to hear a trend. Behavioral and attitude problems topped the laundry list of complaints; a lack of respect for authority, and a rebellious temper were also offered on more than one occasion. My experience? All somewhat similar. But for me – unlike my co-workers and the Maya people in general – this is general adolescent behavior for a 16 year-old living at home, let alone away from home as is this girl.
As always in such meetings, I have to be careful knowing that for one, each of the individuals whom I am with carries much more time at Ak’Tenamit than I do and therefore, I often lack some very important background information; and two, I do not come from this culture, and therefore do not always understand some of the differences that exist, be them minor or grave. I did my best to share my experience with the student when my time was given, but it seemed that this sort of adolescent behavior has little or no place at Ak’Tenamit. They surprisingly – as I have heard has happened in the past – did not try to expel the student, but essentially decided they had had enough. In part, it is understandable. A sixteen year-old, away from home, calls back to complain about anything as a cry for help or attention, or maybe out of true desperation, what parent wouldn’t want to believe their child and come to the rescue? That said, everything with a grain of salt, no? My boss and friend would later tell me that the mother would listen to nothing she had to say, was dismissive and rude. All in all, it was a bit of a mess. But for me, a difference in the expression and stages of adolescence was only the beginning.
The topic turned quickly to students’ dress and style. What is appropriate and inappropriate? What aligns with the Maya culture and what does not? Again, I sat listening to my co-workers explain their position as to why they felt it inappropriate for our males students to wear their hair in Mohawks, or with a little tail hanging to the side. After a rant in which the majority felt that barring these fashion statements from the classroom made the most sense, I pulled my boss aside. She - as she had already indicated during the meeting with the support of the teachers – reiterated her belief that these trends didn’t align with the Maya culture as they new it and had no place – due to that fact – in our organization. I asked her if she felt that cultures were a static being or whether they were evolutionary. I asked her whether the internet or Pepsi was a part of the Maya culture, or just another thing brought in from the outside world. My feeling was that this was an arbitrary statement on their part; one that erred on the side of conservatism. This was very foreign for my experience with Ak’Tenamit – a normally more progressive and inclusive organization.
With a bit more back and forth, I realized progress would not be made in this setting and I let the conversation go. With only one month left teaching here, I will plant my seeds, maintain my convictions, but also not let them be the obstacle to working with the students positively for the time that I still have. Surprising that 10 months into this experience, I just had my first true cultural clash, but I hope to use it more as a “teachable moment” for both me and my co-workers.

Life

It's been a while since I have made my way back to the blog. Pinpointing the reason is not a simple task. I think when I look at this blog that has taken task to document the second half of my Guatemalan journey, it brings my reality back home. The date is June 13th. That leaves me just over two months left until I fly back to the States. My goal, it seems - at least when I let myself think about it long enough - is to come back to Latin American in the years to come. The means? That I am unsure of still. But my quality of life down here is amazing. I feel healthy, happy, and am learning at an exponential rate. At the same time, there are things back home that I miss. A friend of mine said the other day that when it comes to living in your country of origin or abroad, there are sacrifices. While living on the river in the jungle is breath-taking, the absence of family and life-long friends makes me want for home. If only we could mix the two worlds. That said, my friends here in Guatemala have filled my life with so much joy; my students drop pearls of wisdom on me constantly while challenging me about what I think I know about "education;" and when I sit down to lok at the world around me, I smile. That's a good sign.

Half-heartedly I look for work. Knowing that if and when I find work, it means this chapter will close. Not to say I can't come back, but it is true it will never be the same. Leaving behind my new Guatemalan family will not be easy, but I look forward to the adventure. Forward any job postings?!?! :)

Recently, I read a book by Haruki Murakami. It was great to be encapsulated by a book again. When I first got to the project, I was not overly enamoured with the community. As a younger person I had never read too much. But with forture, over time my desire to read increased, and the free time at the project and a personal library at our disposal, I was reading five books a week. When the community and my role at the organization improved, reading went to the wayside. Anyway, short rant, but read "Dance Dance Dance" if you want to be laugh at the simple humor of every day's common occurrences around us.

A special happy birthday to those whom it applies.

Wish I had something more of interest to share, but I am afraid that I am fresh out. I'd love to hear about some of what's going on in your worlds. E-mail me at jesse.schaubenfuerst@gmail.com

To a better world,

Jesse